


you were warmer than the scent of a cafe latte

by actualbluesargent



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin (mentioned) - Freeform, M/M, all of them? - Freeform, coffee shop AU, how many minty coffee shop aus can I write, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 07:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12979530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualbluesargent/pseuds/actualbluesargent
Summary: Nate doesn't usually warm up to customers, even the regulars with uncomplicated orders. But this one is cute, and he's kind of concerned about his coffee consumption.





	you were warmer than the scent of a cafe latte

**Author's Note:**

> a quick disclaimer, i am european, and all my knowledge of college in the states or anything comes from american media and my own experience. so be kind, please.
> 
> title from coffee by bts

Nate had learned a few things in his time working in his college Starbucks. The first, that he hates working with the public. The second, that he likes being unemployed even less. He knows the busiest times of day, the worst shifts, the orders of a few regulars. He can interpret what would seem, to the uninitiated, like a jumble of meaningless letters, to mean ‘double shot toffee nut soy latte with cream’. 

He also knows how to spot a worrying coffee dependency when he sees it. It’s not always immediately obvious, but he can draw the line between ‘regular’ and ‘too regular’.

With Monty, it takes him admittedly longer than usual to notice. The first time he comes in, Nate’s on the counter, because Bellamy hates him and wants to force him to interact with the public. It has nothing to do with the fact he’s on shift with Murphy and Emori, who are, quite frankly, the only two people Nate thinks would be worse in dealing with the public than he is. 

He doesn’t make much of an impression, because it’s a Wednesday morning, during the rush between morning classes. He smiles as he makes his order, grande americano, polite and patient, and he’s gone. 

Nate doesn’t see him for a few days, but the next time he does, he doesn’t think anything of recognising him; he works in a Starbucks in one of the busiest buildings on campus, a lot of the same people come in. He asks his name, and notices the dimples in his cheeks as he answers. 

He comes back in a few hours which is, admittedly, a little odd, but not unheard of. He feels a little weird asking for his name and order again, but he would feel weirder admitting he recognises him. He hands the empty cup with the order to Bellamy, and takes the next person’s order.

He’s in the next morning, when Nate’s on shift. He’s in charge of processing orders, making lattes and americanos as fast as he can. He spots the name on the cup, grande americano in between a hot chocolate and a gingerbread latte, and smirks to himself. 

“Americano for Monty?” he calls, and doesn’t miss the soft smile of recognition on his face as he comes to collect his drink. He doesn’t have any time to dwell on it, though, because Starbucks is an unforgiving mistress.

It’s like that for a few weeks; Monty coming in, the two of them exchanging smiles, Nate still asking him for his name and order, and Monty goes. He always gets a grande americano, and Nate can assume that during any shift, Monty will come in at least once. He doesn’t really think much of it - he understands that a lot of people drink coffee regularly. Monty sticks in his head more than any of their other regulars, probably because on more than one instance, Nate’s found himself noticing how cute he is, with his dimples, dark hair that falls in front of his eyes and prominent cheekbones.

He’s started offering to work at the counter more, and when Bellamy finds out why, he shoves him in the shoulder and laughs. 

“I can’t believe you have a customer crush. I thought you would be above that.” 

They’re in Bellamy’s dorm room, playing a drinking game with bad reality TV, because while Bellamy is his boss, he’s also his best friend.

“He’s cute is all. I know literally - Cut to more than two shocked faces, drink,” he hits him in the arm. “I know literally nothing about him. Anyway, you’re just jealous because I see my customer crush everyday and yours only comes in once a week and you never have time to flirt with her.”

“Shut up,” Bellamy says, which means he wins. 

It isn’t until he’s working the death shift during finals week that he notices something’s - wrong. The so-called death shift, named by ex-barista and ex-boyfriend Bryan, starts at five in the morning, involves opening the cafe and only happens when Nate’s been stupid enough to agree to cover someone’s shift without realising he’s working that morning. He’s only had to work it twice, because he usually isn’t that dumb, but when he does, he needs to be horizontal for at least twenty-four hours. 

Monty comes in as soon as they’re open, eyes bleary and voice husky. Nate writes his name and order on the cup, even though it’s early enough for there to be little confusion as to whose coffee it is. He’s the only one working, it’s so quiet, so he hands it to him too. Monty accepts the coffee with a tired smile and a wave of his free hand and is gone.

The day picks up about an hour after that, and Monroe comes on shift, so they get through orders faster. He likes working with Monroe the best, after Bellamy, because she knows what she’s doing, and does it with little fuss, and can dart around him in the limited space they have. 

He’s about fifteen minutes away from his break when Monty comes back in. Nate only raises his eyebrows as Monty gets to the front of the queue, and he at least has the self-awareness to look somewhat sheepish as he makes his order. He flashes Nate a smile as he hands over the money, and not for the first time, he nearly starts a conversation.

He really is cute.

“How many coffees in one day is too many?” he remarks to Monroe later, when it’s quiet and they’re cleaning up the mess from that morning that they were too frantic to take care of.

Monroe cocks her head. “I don’t know. I had a French teacher in high school who had eight coffees a day. I don’t think we can count her as a good comparison, though,”

Nate nods, and they lapse back into silence again for a while.

“Why do you ask?” Monroe asks then, and just as Nate is about to answer, someone clears their throat at the counter.

Nate looks up and sees Monty, who’s blushing a little. “Hi, could I get a grande americano, please?”

Nate smiles, and starts getting it ready while Monroe gets his money.

When he comes back the fourth time that day, Nate allows himself to admit he recognises him; it’s getting kind of hilarious.

“Hi Monty,” he says, when he reaches the top of the line. To his delight, Monty’s face is coloured in surprise. “Grande americano?”

Monty blinks at him in surprise, and coughs. “Uh, yeah, thanks, uh - ”

“Nate,” Nate says, even though he always introduces himself as Miller. 

Monty smiles, and it makes Nate feel warm down to his toes. “Thanks, Nate.”

Introducing himself to Monty doesn’t exactly have dire consequences. It does, however, mean they talk more, which wouldn’t be much, considering they never really talked before. But Monty starts greeting him with a ‘Morning, Nate,’ even when he looks like death, in desperate need for a coffee. When he swings by later in the day, he asks how he’s doing, and they chat. It’s not a lot, polite small talk, but it’s more than Nate has with any of the customers. It’s uncharted territory, and he’s not sure what to do about it.

So obviously, his only option is to tease him sporadically about his coffee consumption.

“You know,” he says one day, when there’s no line. “If you bring your own reusable coffee cup, you save ten cents for every coffee you buy.”

He’s leaning with his forearms on the counter, so he’s looking up at Monty. Monty raises an eyebrow. “Ten cents, huh?”

Nate nods. “And you’ll probably like, save the planet, since you won’t be throwing away like ten cups a day.”

Monty lets out a bark of laughter. “I do not drink that much coffee a day!”

Nate just raises an eyebrow at him. “Sure, sure. You’re not in here literally  _ every _ day, at least twice, and that’s when I’m on shift. Who knows how often you’re in here when I’m not around to caffeine-shame you?”

Monty shakes his head at him, laughing softly. Nate’s about to say something else when Bellamy hits him on the back of his head with a towel. 

“Miller, could you stop flirting and actually get the guy’s coffee ready? We don’t  _ actually _ have all day.”

He can’t look Monty in the eye after that, so he just elbows Bellamy when he leaves. “Dick,” he says, and Bellamy just laughs.

The first time he sees Monty outside the Starbucks is in the library, downstairs in the green zone. Those who say libraries are quiet places clearly never tried to grasp the complicated three colour noise level system Ark U operated. The bottom floor was essentially an open forum, full of people with projects laid out on tables, watching cartoons and having conversations while totally disregarding their textbooks.

Monty’s at an empty table of six, drinking from what looks less like a reusable coffee cup and more like a portable bucket, and Nate smirks.

He slips into the seat across from him, and to his credit, Monty doesn’t jump. He pulls out an earphone and looks at him a little incredulously.

“Nate,” he says. “Hey.”

Nate lifts a hand in greeting. “You took my advice,” he says then, gesturing to the bucket - no, flask. 

Monty shrugs. “Yeah, well, when the cute barista speaks, you should listen.” His eyes widen then, like he’s just realised what he said. Nate wants to take stock of any of his embarrassment, but his brain shorts out, unsure what to do in the face of blatant flirtation. 

Finally, he gathers himself, and looks Monty in the eye. “The cute barista, huh?”

Monty swallows, but doesn’t take it back. Nate smiles, and files the moment away for later.

“What are you studying?”

They settle in like that, and he learns that Monty’s studying engineering, and that it’s kicking his ass. He learns what it’s like to interact with Monty the real person, who’s more than a coffee order and a few fleeting moments during his shift. He finds out that he’s funny, with a quick wit and a habit of slipping dorky references into his speech, and getting surprised when Nate gets them.

He’s so much more than cute, and Nate is in trouble.

When he comes in the next day, Nate spots him in line, and when he has the chance, writes his name and order on a cup.

“Three dollars,” he says to Monty when he gets to the front of the line, and he looks at him in confusion.

“I can at least get the cute regular his coffee as soon as I can, right?” he says, inclining his head so that only Monty hears him. Monty blushes a little, and fumbles in his pocket for his money.

“Thanks,” he says, handing the money to Nate.

“Well,” he replies. “If you’ve got a coffee problem, it is not my place, as your barista, to try and inhibit you.”

Monty laughs, and goes to wait for his coffee. Nate feels like he’s glowing.

It has been bugging him, though, Monty’s frequent visits to Starbucks. It’s not just that he’s cute that Nate remembers him, he’s literally there more than any other regular.

So, like with anything, he brings it up with Bellamy.

“Do you think it’s like, an addiction?” he asks him. Bellamy’s draped across his bed, a textbook held above his head, and Nate’s on a beanbag, not looking at his copy of  _ Villette. _

“Dude,” Bellamy says, tossing his book to the side and turning to look at him. “I’m not trying to get your hopes up here, but it’s gotta be about you,”

Nate squints at him. “What do you mean?”

“Listen,” Bellamy says, already gesturing with his hands. “If I had a crush on someone, and they worked in a coffee shop, you can bet your ass I would be in there everyday. I’m not saying that’s exactly what’s happening here, but, come on.” He looks at Nate, unimpressed. “No one drinks that much coffee.”

Nate doesn’t answer, and honestly, isn’t sure he believes him. He’d like to believe that Monty’s frequent visits to Starbucks had anything to do with him, but that’s all it is - nice to believe.

He’s walking across campus, on his way back from Bellamy’s dorm, when he spots Monty in the distance.

“So it really is a coffee dependency,” Nate says, stopping at Monty’s side as he’s in line for the coffee cart outside the library. Monty’s mouth twitches as he turns to look at him.

“What?”

Nate looks at his feet, for lack of anywhere else to focus that wasn’t Monty’s face. “I was half hoping the reason you kept coming to the Starbucks was because of me. But no, you’re really just addicted to coffee, huh?”

Monty laughs, this brilliant, bright thing. “Guilty as charged. You’re a perk, though.”

Like the first time it happened, Nate doesn’t know what to do with this blatant flirting, so just clears his throat and hopes his blush isn’t obvious. When he looks back at Monty, he’s still smiling, dimples and all, and he decides to take a leap.

“Not to be an enabler, or anything, but do you wanna get a coffee sometime?”

Monty smiles, soft and fond. He slowly places his hand at the back of Nate’s neck, and pulls him down for a kiss, as if he’d done it before, like it was standard for them. Nate has to admit, he’d like it to be, and it’s all he can do not to smile into the kiss as Monty presses his lips against his, firm and certain.

When he pulls back, Nate grins, and nearly has to look away as Monty’s eyes open, full of an unadulterated kind of light. “Is that a yes?” 

Monty kisses him again, quickly, before breaking out into a wide, dimple-summoning smile. “That’s a yes.”


End file.
